Growing up a Thief

Chapter 3: Trial by Fire

      I must have been sitting there watching them for longer than I thought, because now I can feel my body being pulled forward as the train slows down to a stop. 

     "What's your name, kid?" the bearded man says, trying to get a read on me.

     "James!" I reply almost too enthusiastically. I take a deep breath and tell myself to calm down. 

     "Well, James, this cheerful bastard is Taylor and I'm Pauly. Pleased to meet you, where you stay kid?" Pauly asks.

     "Around," I answer, with obvious embarrassment. 

     "Are you telling me you're out here all alone? Tough kid," Taylor says, seeming impressed.

     Pauly just exhales sharply with a hint of sympathy, then motions us to get off the train. "Look, little man, this isn't a life you want. But, if you really want to learn a thing or two from the masters..." 

     Taylor gives a sharp laugh, knowing full well they cut it way too close to be thinking so highly of themselves.

     "Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut. You get pinched, you never met us, understand?" Pauly says, shooting an aggravated look towards Taylor. 

     Although I'm not really sure what getting pinched means, I nod maturely. Then we make our way to the exit and I look up at the sign, "Broadway—Lafayette St Station". My heart sinks to my stomach, realizing that this is going to be a long night. Good thing I like to walk. 

**********

     These guys work like a well-oiled machine. They never say a word to each other; this explains the 'keep my mouth' shut comment. They also never walk next to each other, carefully keeping a distance between themselves to ensure no one sees them together. I didn't even realize it, but for the last two blocks we have been following a man with a leather jacket and briefcase. Just when I think I'm going to see a similar play to the one that got me knocked to the floor earlier, something else happens. Taylor takes the lead and bumps into the man, turning him around while Pauly stealthy grabs the man's pocket book out of his right jacket pocket. While Taylor apologizes to the man, Pauly slips into a liquor store and discreetly motions for me to follow him. 

     This guy never stops; when we are walking through the isles waiting for Taylor to make his way back around the block, Pauly stuffs his jacket pockets to the brim. He's got decent taste in candy, I'll give him that. Personally, shoplifting isn't for me. Taking something from a store feels wrong, strange. It feels like I'm developing a code of ethics for thievery.

    Pauly goes on explaining how what they just did didn't always work and how between the two of them they've spent a little over five years locked up. "The first thing you need to know is you're going to get caught. Regardless of how careful you are, mark my words, you will spend some time locked up." He stops when he hears Taylor fly through the door, nearly ripping the 'Welcome' bells off the wall.

    "What did I miss?" Taylor says, sneaking a Snickers bar out of Pauly's pocket, putting his finger to his mouth, and miming at me to pretend I didn't notice.

    "Just telling the kid about our exciting years behind bars," Pauly says with obvious sarcasm.

     "It's not that bad, jail can be fun," Taylor jokingly says, avoiding his partner's judgmental look. "Occupational hazard," he mumbles as he takes a bite of Pauly's Snickers bar.

    All joking aside, am I really cut out for jail? I mean, some people may call it an improvement to my situation. But I don't think I can stand being locked up like that. I'd miss my walks too much. Just another reason to be as careful as possible.

     The next few hours I spent absorbing as much information from my mentors as possible. They go over the different ways to get into someone's pocket without them knowing and how to spot which pocket is full. Taylor stands on the corner and lets me take the wallet they just lifted over and over out of his pocket. Meanwhile, Pauly shows me different ways to distract the person.

     "The best ways to do this is to make sure the person isn't focused on the side of their body the wallet is on. Just like you saw when Taylor bumped into that guy. That whole thing was to get him focused on his left side, while you do the real damage on the right." Pauly is so good at this that while he was telling it to me, he lifted something out of my pocket and showed it to me.

    Realizing that he took one of my photos, I frantically grab for it. It is clear to everyone that I'm getting emotional while I snatch the photo of my parents out of his hand. "Don't ever touch my pictures." I say with so much anger that even Taylor takes a step back.

     Pauly puts his hands up submissively after having the old piece of paper ripped from his hands. "Okay, got it, boundaries. Sorry," he sincerely apologizes, seeing how protective I am over it.

    I have never felt this before. I have had my fair share of wide ranging emotions, given the circumstances. But I have never felt rage like this before; it was like a male lion defending his kill. As it passes, embarrassment sets in.

     Luckily, Taylor lightens the mood. "Well, the kid's got spunk; I think he'd do just fine behind bars," he says after playfully punching Pauly's shoulder.

     Seeing that I'm embarrassed, Pauly says, "Don't worry about it, man, we all got our demons."

**********

     As the night wears on, the city truly comes alive. After saying farewell to Pauly and Taylor, agreeing to meet up again in a few days, I head home. Luckily Taylor knows New York like the back of his hand and was able to get me on the right train home.

     My attention gets diverted when I hear a monolog of drunkenness behind me. A man in a beat up suit comes stumbling passed me, nearly knocking over a lady standing in the aisle. This is it; this is the perfect time to test out my new skills.

     Knowing that I have some time, I begin planning. I'll make my move when he gets up to get off the train. A familiar feeling of nervousness, similar to when I took the keys, washes over me. My breath shortens, my heart begins pounding through my chest and I can feel my hands start to clam up. I have to be ready to run if this goes bad.

     The man stands up as the train begins to stop, which probably isn't the best idea in his drunken state; the man nearly falls over. That's it. I quickly walk towards him, anticipating his next stumble. I grab his right shoulder to stop him from falling. The man's full attention is now set on the hand grabbing his shoulder and I do what I was taught by my mentors. As if I have been doing it since birth, I slip his wallet out of his left pant pocket. That was almost too easy.